


The Whispering Forest

by catalysticskies



Series: The Whispering Forest [1]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alternate Universe, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catalysticskies/pseuds/catalysticskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many stories about why one shouldn’t ever enter the woods to the north, and while Tanuma does not pay much heed to these stories, he withholds his curiosity for his father’s sake. That is, until he finds the cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whispering Forest

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit inspired by Over the Garden Wall and Mushi-shi, but mostly by my love for mysterious wood witches.

There are many stories about why one shouldn’t ever enter the woods to the north, but Tanuma has never paid much heed to them. His father, especially, has warned him of the dangers of that place, told him of the mysteries and demons hidden within its depths, and while he generally listens to his father on principle, this is one thing that he has trouble believing. He once heard from a traveller that _ghosts, when examined closely, are all withered flowers_ , and while he certainly believes in demons and spirits (for how could he not, while they haunt his dreams and flit on the edges of his vision), the woods have always felt safe to him.

Sometimes he imagines what it would be like to walk through there, to wander beneath the tall green trees and dappled sunlight and to discover, maybe, what is in there that the villagers are so afraid of. He is curious, but his father’s will holds him back; everybody follows the advice of the priest, him moreso than others, and he knows that his father only has Tanuma’s safety in heart.

That is, until he finds the cat.

It’s not the first cat he’s seen – some of the villagers kept a few as pets, though it has been a year or two since the last one – but this one seems fundamentally different, somehow. It’s not one of the lithe, nimble cats he has seen before; it’s thick and round like a domestic pig with shorter legs, but it has the same calico markings that one of the farmer’s cats had when he was little, white with scores of vibrant orange and smoky grey. Its eyes are something different, watching as he passes beneath the wall of the house it is perched upon with thin slits that send chills down his spine, and it is not until he reaches the end of the street that he realises it is the same chill he gets when he catches glimpses of the shadows, usually followed by headaches or illness or something bad happening to someone near him.

He whirls back around to face it, and he could swear that the cat _smiles_ , jumping down from the roof and running back up the path he had just come down, and before he can stop to think about it Tanuma is following along behind it, jogging to keep up with it as it runs up past the fields and past his house and off into the woods beyond the village. He eventually loses track of it, the fat white shape ducking under a bush and disappearing entirely, and he stops to catch his breath as he tries to listen for signs of it, a rustle in the underbrush or birds parting in its wake, but there is nothing, and it is then that he realises his mistake.

It is darker here than he imagined, but that is most likely due to the sun having already begun to set when he left the house and the canopy much denser here than at the edges. The trees themselves seem to whisper, rustling above and around him despite there being little wind this deep inside, and it sets him on edge more than the cat had. He doesn’t know which way he had come in from – he’d been too focused on following the beast, which was probably its plan, now that he thinks about it – and it is already getting too dark to follow the sun’s direction back home. He can’t follow the stars, either, not with the leaves as thick as they are and obscuring his view of the sky, but he can’t stay here, so he begins to walk, turning in a direction he hopes is southward and praying to whoever is listening that the rumours aren’t true.

The darkness becomes complete within half an hour, barely even moonlight filtering through to light the way as he traipses, by this point, entirely aimlessly through the woods. It has gotten much colder now without the warmth of the sun and the soil seeming to greedily absorb whatever heat was left, and he begins to worry more about shelter than finding his way home, but it's only a passing dream. He has been here for hours and has seen little that could provide enough cover to protect him until morning.

He is just beginning to figure that it's hopeless, that he is going to be wandering here until he finally collapses of exhaustion, when a trickle of wind carries the faint smell of smoke to him. It is not the smoke of a wood fire, sharper somehow, more defined, like the steam that rises from a teacup, and he finds himself drawn to it (though it would probably be the logical direction to take regardless), following the scent through the woodland until he glimpses a faint orange glow through the trees, and then he follows his sight instead. He comes to find a squat little house, seeming at first out of place among the trees but, on second glance, looking no more abstract than the woods themselves, the glow coming from a small window through which filters the light of a hearth. It is still far from where he should be, but he is running out of options, and he is not one to ignore a blessing when he finds it.

He is nervous as he steps up to the door, raising a hand – trembling, from both the cold and anxiety – to the worn wood of the door to knock, counting the seconds afterward, _no more than twenty until you turn and leave_ , and after four he hears movement inside, nine a muffled voice, twelve and the door is pulled open to reveal a man probably no older than he is, silhouetted by the glow from inside. Sharp brown eyes look him over, a brief flicker down and back up, and then he is being ushered inside, “Come in, you must be freezing,” and before he knows it the man is fussing about him and sitting him down in front of the fireplace, darting off momentarily before returning with a thick woven blanket.

Tanuma takes a moment, while whoever it is steps into another room to prepare tea, to investigate his surroundings, the shelves around the walls lined with strange bottles, some large and some small, transparent or opaque and filled with ground herbs or small branches or preserved pieces of _something_ , he doesn’t recognise most of it. He spots a large, worn pot sitting by the fireplace, a few smaller ones hanging from hooks above it, and it is now that he begins to notice the smaller things, the skull of a crow resting between jars on the shelves, a necklace strewn with feathers and beads hung on the corner.

“I'm sorry,” he says once the man has returned with two steaming cups of tea, the smell strong and sharp in his nose, “For imposing.”

The man only smiles, setting his cup down with a gentle tap. “It's alright,” he replies, “These woods aren't kind to strangers. It's lucky that you found me.” There is an awkward pause, heavy with curiosity as Tanuma stares fixedly at the leaves in his cup, and then he is asked, “Why did you come here? Are you a traveller?”

He'd expected it, almost, and he still cannot think of an appropriate response. “No,” he answers, frowning to himself, “I live in the village south of here.”

The man's eyes widen a little, then narrow in confusion. “I thought the villagers never came here.”

“We are told not to, yes, and most people follow it, but...” He pauses here, unsure of whether or not to mention the beast that led him here, but figures this stranger probably knows the workings of these woods far better than he does. “I believe I was lured here,” he says, averting his eyes. “There was this strange cat in the village, and I... I guess I felt this need to follow it, and it led me pretty deep into the woods before it disappeared. I've been trying to get back home since.”

Tanuma looks up when the man sighs, heavy and irritated, and does not understand the meaning behind it. “He's always off doing weird things,” he mutters, closing his eyes as if in prayer for a moment, then gives Tanuma an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry about him. I'm not sure if he saw something in you or was just messing with you, but he really needs to learn some manners. And that he needs to talk to me before he brings people here!” He shouts the last bit, seemingly talking to somebody else in the house, and then Tanuma hears a heavy _thump_ before a large white cat comes padding in from the other room, settling itself in the man's lap and letting out a small purr. “This is Sensei,” he says, gesturing meekly to the cat. “And again, I'm sorry for him leading you astray.”

“Sensei?” Tanuma asks, pulling his eyes from the fat lump of fur to the warm brown of the other man's eyes. “He's your... teacher?”

“Something like that,” he replies with a shrug, then stops, puts a hand to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, I never even introduced myself. I think your people call me Natsume?”

He has heard that before, but he can't remember where. One of his father's stories, a tale of the river and the cicadas in the reeds. “The Summer Eye,” he realises, and Natsume smiles. “That's you?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking away as if he's embarrassed. “Sensei likes to play in the river near the village during the summer, and I have to disguise myself whenever I leave here, so the few who have seen me have dubbed me as such. I rather liked the moniker.”

“You make me sound like some meadow-frolicking pansy,” the cat says, and Tanuma stops dead, staring at it in awe and a little bit of fear, but Natsume just laughs like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“Come on, don't think that you're not. Just the other day you ran off chasing a grasshopper.”

“What is that thing?” Tanuma asks before the cat can rebuke, unable to hold back his astonishment.

Natsume considers this for a moment, his fingers absently brushing Sensei's fur as he thinks of how best to answer. “Sensei is... not something humans know very much about,” he begins, and his face shifts to something melancholy, something Tanuma does not understand. “There are beings in this world that do not belong to the plane of the living, but they can sometimes interact with it, and there are some that are able to perceive them. They are what you would probably refer to as spirits or demons, creatures that haunt the edges of the human world.”

“Shadows at the edges of your vision,” Tanuma murmurs, connecting the dots, _finally_. Natsume gives him a quizzical look, almost hopeful but mostly confused. “These... spirits. You say some people are able to perceive them, but how clearly?”

Natsume chews at his lip, looking down at the cat as if afraid to meet his gaze. “Some can see them as clear as any animal,” he says quietly, “While there are others who can only catch glimpses, flickers of movement or whispers of their voices. Some are able to sense their presence, but not see them at all. Others still can interact with them, but are unable to see or feel them.” There is another heavy pause, and then the man looks back up to him, something glinting in his eyes. “Pardon me if I’m wrong, but can you…?”

“See them?” Tanuma finishes, then reluctantly shakes his head. “Not really. Sometimes I think I can feel them, or I catch glimpses of vague shapes, but it’s never much, and I hadn’t really considered what it could be until now. My father tells me it could be demons, but not all of them feel malicious.”

“Not all of them are, but it does not change the fact that you should be wary. I must sound like a stereotype, but it is best to err on the side of caution when it comes to these spirits. Many have ill intentions.”

Tanuma ruminates over that for a time, watching the way that Natsume’s hands absently play through Sensei’s fur. “If I may,” he begins, brown eyes flicking up to his, “What do you do out here? I mean, you’re… human, right?”

Natsume gives a small chuckle, as if at some private joke. “Yes, I am. I was sent out here when I was very young, because I have a tendency to attract the spirits and, therefore, often attracted their mischief. This place has always been home to them, so it was a fitting place for me.”

The cat jumps from his lap as Tanuma ponders the idea of living amongst spirits, watching as it walks off until it is out of sight. “Hold on,” he says, frowning, “You were sent?”

He has touched on something saddening, he realises too late; Natsume’s expressions shifts, gloom passing over him and weighing his shoulders. “My village was… kind, but suspicious. They did not take well to a child speaking of creatures they couldn’t see and bad luck befalling them because of it.”

Tanuma tries to imagine it, his village shaming and rejecting him for seeing these things, and finds his envisagement far inferior to what it must really have been like. “I’m sorry,” he says, for he has little else to say to that, but Natsume only smiles and shakes his head.

“It’s done,” he tells Tanuma, “And I am far better for it. This place is more home to me than the village ever could be.” Tanuma knows what that is like; he had lived in another place before this village, and they had always given him strange looks when he said he saw shadows, though they would never have said anything to the priest’s son directly. His father had known, though, and had moved away from his home of many years to bring them here, and they are far happier now.

“I’m sorry,” Natsume says suddenly, bringing him out of his reverie, and Tanuma realises that he had lost focus. “You must be tired. The things in these woods often draw energy from people, so the few visitors we get are usually left worse for wear. Please excuse me, and I’ll prepare some bedding.”

_I don’t want to impose_ , he goes to say, but he understands Natsume’s hospitality, and he still does not have a way out of the forest, so he simply nods and thanks him as Natsume heads to another section of the house. There is a bed already prepared on the floor of the room, either by fortunate coincidence or some strange magic, and Natsume leaves him with it as he steps out again, ever-busy and keen to assist, returning moments later with the cat in his arms. “I hope this is okay,” he says to Tanuma, who is standing dumbfounded in the middle of the room. Natsume looks so genuinely concerned about his level of hospitality that Tanuma wouldn’t say no even if it was a little bit true.

“It’s perfectly alright,” Tanuma tells him, giving a slight bow. “Thank you. I appreciate you taking me in like this.”

Natsume smiles, but it is one of those smiles that is more wistful than anything else. “Trust me,” he says quietly, and Tanuma senses fear in his voice, “I wouldn’t wish anyone to be stuck out there at night.”

It’s such an ominous statement, Tanuma can’t help but wonder what’s out there, what might be lurking in the places he couldn’t see, what might have happened to him if he hadn’t found this place. It is an unnerving thought to have, but when Natsume leaves him alone to rest, he finds himself hard-pressed to care too much, his exhaustion and the scent of whatever incense was burning in this room putting him to sleep far quicker than he feels he has ever slept before.

He dreams of witnessing a parade of spirits, clad in white robes and singing tales of the deity they carry on their shoulders. The procession stops in front of the curious Tanuma, lowering the podium they carry to the ground; he watches the deity rise in one smooth motion, flowing lavender robes and a great crown of peonies falling from its horns, and he watches as it steps towards him, three gentle strides until it stands before him. Tanuma looks upon it in awe, frozen as the deity reaches a hand up, and it lifts its mask to reveal Natsume’s gentle face beneath, smiling warmly at him beneath the scent of blossoms, and it is not until Tanuma wakes that he realises Natsume had been saying something to him.

“Ah,” he hears once he has wandered from the bedroom to the main room, spotting Natsume over the table in the kitchen, either preparing breakfast or some strange spell. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

Tanuma’s mind flickers over the images from his dream, Natsume’s face between a sea of white masks. “Yes,” he replies, “Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality, but I should really head back to the village; my father will be worried.”

“Oh!” he exclaims, “Right, my apologies, um.” He pauses, looking around at the sprawl of ingredients on the table, then sheepishly back up at Tanuma. “Breakfast is nearly finished, so we can eat and then I’ll escort you back, if that’s alright?”

“I’d like that,” he replies, and Natsume smiles.

It’s not the most conventional meal he’s ever had, the stew filled with meats and herbs that he’s mostly unfamiliar with, but it is incredibly delicious and he makes a point to mention as such, to which the cat replies that it’s not the best he’s ever made and Natsume gives it a scolding. It’s strangely domestic, having breakfast conversation with a spirit-seer and his cat inside forbidden woods, but he finds he rather enjoys it.

“I would love to stay,” he tells Natsume, once the meal is done and he is helping clear the table, the cat watching from its position on the windowsill, “But I don’t wish to worry my father any further.”

“I understand,” Natsume replies, but it is quiet, despondent. He glances up, meeting Tanuma’s gaze with the gentle smile he is quickly growing to love. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Natsume tells the cat to stay put, to which it replies that it will do what it wants, and then they are on their way, back through the woods in a direction that Tanuma has trouble discerning. He tries to see this place as Natsume does, walking beneath the vast canopies, shadows flickering between the trunks and making him wonder what exactly is out there, what it is that keeps Natsume here. He watches with curiosity as Natsume takes out a small piece of cloth, unfolding it and reaching up to tie it around his head, and once Tanuma catches sight of the simple black character painted on the front, he finally understands the moniker in full. Natsume catches his eyes beneath the mask and smiles knowingly, and Tanuma can only smile in return.

They stop at the edge of the forest, houses from the village just visible through the trees before them, and Tanuma breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the familiar buildings. “This is where we part,” Natsume tells him, eyes hidden beneath the mask as he gazes at the village. “I have… very much enjoyed your company, Tanuma, as accidental as it was for you.”

Natsume holds out his hand with a smile, and Tanuma takes it, his skin warm like the summer. “So have I,” he agrees, “Despite the suddenness of it. Thank you.” They pause then, each looking at the other, before Tanuma broaches the subject that he has been so nervous about all morning. “May I… Is it possible to see you again?”

Natsume smiles like Tanuma has just handed him the world. “You may visit whenever you like,” he says, “If you promise to keep it secret. I can’t have people knowing I’m there and wandering in uneducated. Here,” he adds, as though he had just remembered, reaching into his robes and pulling out a single, long-stemmed peony. “This will guide you,” he explains, “So long as you let it.”

Tanuma takes it gingerly between his fingers, and it may just be his imagination, but he could swear his skin tingles where it comes into contact. “Won’t it wilt?” he asks, but Natsume only taps the side of his nose, and somehow Tanuma understands.

“Go,” Natsume says, gesturing forward. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.” Tanuma gives him a sincere, thankful smile, then turns to head back towards the village, glad to finally be home yet somehow feeling a little disappointed. When he glances behind him, Natsume is already gone; Tanuma twirls the peony between his fingers, watching the petals dance with the motion, the same as those on the deity’s crown, and believes that he will definitely return sometime.


End file.
